style="font-size:15px;"> ‘If you say so, carissima,’ he said.
For the rest of the day Hope was inwardly disturbed. The conversation of the morning haunted her, and she found herself repeatedly going out onto the terrace to look down the path to where a car would climb the hill, hoping that Francesco would return early.
But there was no sign of him, and at last the light began to fade.
Despondently, she was about to go inside but stopped at the sight of something moving on the road below. A vehicle was climbing the hill, and for a moment she allowed herself to hope. But then she saw that it was a taxi. It stopped at the steps and the driver got out to open the rear passenger door.
The first creature out was a dog, a beautiful black Labrador, wearing the harness of a guide dog. A strange feeling came over Hope, and she began to understand even before she saw the other occupant unfold her long, graceful legs and step out. It was the young woman in the pictures Francesco had sent her.
‘Good afternoon,’ Hope called, speaking her native English. ‘You must be Signorina Ryland.’
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